


bonding b-over broken bones

by alexanderendrone



Series: my quacknobros fics [3]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Injury, a lil, oh no;;; there's a snowstorm;;; guess i'll just have to stay here, technoblade retirement pog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27950603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanderendrone/pseuds/alexanderendrone
Summary: nothing lands you in a heart-to-heart conversation quite like falling down the stairsft. dadza and too much lamenting over not being able to communicate telepathically
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Dave | Technoblade
Series: my quacknobros fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2176197
Comments: 28
Kudos: 646





	bonding b-over broken bones

**Author's Note:**

> that title took me two days to come up with and was the first thing i wrote for this fic you better appreciate it /j  
> summary courtesy of the wife bc shes brilliant amazing and perfect as always

“I want to resurrect Schlatt.” Quackity blurted out, hands fisted in the blanket he’d wrapped around him.

  
“Ok.” Techno’s eyes didn’t lift from the thick book he was reading from, settled in a rocking chair in front of the fire.    
  


“ _ Ok? _ That’s it? You’re not going to stop me?” Quackity snapped, shrugging the blanket off of him. 

“Am I… supposed to?” Techno sighed, flipping another page in his book. He shifted slightly, shooting a look at Quackity over the top of his book, looking unimpressed.

  
“I want to  _ resurrect a dictator, of course you’re supposed to stop me!”  _ Quackity stood quickly, crossing the room in an instant and jabbing a finger into Techno’s chest. Techno batted his hand away like it was nothing, completely unbothered.

“Ok. Quackity… Don’t resurrect Schlatt. That’s… a horrible idea.” He drawled, already looking over the conversation. “You know if you wanted to roleplay you should’ve just said so—”

  
“I’m not fucking around, Technoblade!” Quackity’s wings puffed up from where they’d been settled against his back, desperate to look intimidating, to get Technoblade to  _ take him seriously _ . “This isn’t a fucking joke! Don’t demean me, I’m gonna do it!”

Techno paused, head tilted to the side with a considerate look across his face, expression oddly soft in the firelight. Quackity decided then that he  _ hated _ that look. He didn’t want to be  _ pitied _ . He wanted to be taken seriously, wanted Techno to make him stop his self-destructive mission, for Techno to act like he wanted him around.

“Why do I feel like we’re talking about more than resurrecting Schlatt here?” Techno broke the silence finally, apparently finding what he was looking for in Quackity’s expression. “I’ll be blunt, Quackity. I’m a bit  _ tired _ , of all the mind games, of all the political intrigue. If you want something from me you’re just going to have to say it.”

Quackity huffed, Techno didn’t fucking get it, and that was fine, it didn’t  _ bother _ him. He wished Techno would just  _ do _ things, instead of making Quackity choose. A small part of him missed that about Schlatt, about how he was just told what to do. Even with the others, he went along with what was said. Techno didn’t allow that, though, and he  _ hated _ that.

“Why? Why do I have to say anything?” Quackity lashed out again, shoving at Techno’s shoulder. The rocking chair moved with the shove, but Techno remained stony, face impassive and blank. “I want to  _ resurrect Schlatt _ . That’s obviously a horrible idea! Why won’t you  _ stop me _ ?” 

There was a long beat of silence as the rocking chair swayed back and forth, finally settling again before Techno spoke. 

“It’s  _ your choice _ , Quackity. You can do what you want. I’m not going to tell you what to do, because I  _ don’t want to _ . If you wanted guidance, or a helping hand, maybe I can help you with that.” Techno stood then, grabbing Quackity by the shoulders and leaning close. “But,  _ I am not your boss. I don’t care what you do. _ ”   
  


Quackity felt his heart in his throat, staring into Techno’s eyes, the man looking more serious then he’d ever seen him before. Defensive, Quackity lashed out, arms flailing wildly as he stumbled backwards.   
  


“ _ FUCK you, _ I didn’t want you to care about what I do anyways, you ass-” He cut himself off with a shriek as he stumbled over the carpet, crashing down the stairs and landing at the bottom in a tangle of limbs and wings. 

He blinked and Techno was at his side, and he would’ve been impressed by the graceful landing considering Techno had just jumped from the second floor, but he was distracted by a horrible pain in his ankle.

There was a flurry of movement after that, Techno ordering him to stop squirming as he scooped him up before bridal carrying him up the stairs.

\--

Techno carefully laid him out on his bed, and moved to look over his ankle. He was frowning and Quackity couldn’t help the squeak he made when Techno lightly touched it.    
  


“Well, Quackity, I think it’s twisted.” Techno said finally, deadpan voice cut with the slightest hint of concern. “Looks like you’ll be stuck here for a while.”   
  
“Just call someone to come get me, I can still ride a horse.” Quackity huffed, arms crossed as he glared at Techno. He was still pissed, alright? It still smarted a little that Techno, apparently, didn’t care about him enough to stop him from hurting himself and others.

It was a fucked up way to ask for attention, Quackity knew, and he shouldn’t be so offended that Techno didn’t rise to the bait, but it was like he didn’t even consider it. And that  _ hurt _ . 

He huffed again, and stuck his tongue out at Techno when he shot him a questioning look.

“Unfortunately for you, a blizzard’s coming in. Even if someone could get here before it arrives, there’s no way you could make it back safely.” Techno moved to stoke the fire more, settling another log on the pile. 

“Whatever,” Quackity mumbled, fiddling with the edge of the blanket Techno had carefully draped over him. “You should apologize, you know.”   
  
Techno blinked at him, looking genuinely confused.

“For…?” He prompted after a long lapse of silence, both of them just staring at each other, Quackity irritated and Techno puzzled.

“Whatever!” Quackity snapped, “Never mind, it’s whatever.” 

“Ok.” Techno responded simply, standing up from his squat next to the fireplace and stretching. He looked like he was going to say something before he was interrupted by a door opening downstairs.

“Techno?” Philza called into the empty bottom floor, stomping the snow off of his boots as he came into the house. He shook the snow from his wings as he stripped off his outer layers, meeting Techno’s eyes over the railing of the stairs.

“Hallo. Quackity’s here.” Techno said, making his way down the stairs to meet Philza at the door. 

“Oh? Quackity?” Philza paused, before whispering, “ _ The loud one with the messy wings? _ ”

At Techno’s affirmative nod, he beamed. 

“Such a good young man. Very… Nonthreatening.” Philza smiled at him. “Good friend material.”

Techno squinted at him.

“I’m not a child,” Techno huffed. “I don’t need you to approve of all of my friends.”

Philza just snorted, deciding not to call him out on how he practically preened when Philza voiced his approval.

\--

Philza carefully stroked down the feathers on Quackity’s wings, loose feathers drifting slowly to the ground. Quackity was sat on a chair with a low back, crafted specifically with the winged hybrids in mind. His ankle was propped on another chair across from him, an ice pack on his ankle. 

Techno had been aggressively doting over him, adjusting his pillows and helping him drape the red cape Quackity had bullied him into handing over. Philza had gently sent him away, asking him to make them something to eat while he helped Quackity with his wings, amusement over the mother-henning palpable.

Philza didn’t miss the pout on his son’s face when he mentioned grooming Quackity’s wings, and barely managed to hold back a snort when he caught Techno shooting him a jealous look from the kitchen. 

The clanking of pans and dishes hitting together and the sounds of cupboards open and closing filled the background. 

Quackity cleared his throat, uncomfortable before falling silent again. 

Philza continued to groom his wings, silently amused by the squirming the uncomfortable silence caused. Quackity’s shoulders relaxed a miniscule amount and Philza pounced.

“Do you even know  _ how _ to groom your wings?” Philza said abruptly, startling Quackity into a more rigid sitting position. The sudden movement earned a squeak as he jostled his injured ankle. Techno appeared at the doorway, a concerned look on his face, blue frilly apron on and dirty spoon in hand. 

_ Thank God,  _ Quackity thought to himself,  _ please help this is so fucking awkward.  _

Philza just sent him his most disarming smile, earning him a suspicious squint,  _ he’d taught him well _ , but Techno disappeared into the kitchen again without comment. 

_ I’m fucked _ , Quackity thought, cursing his lack of telepathy as his one hope of salvaging this interaction walked away.

_ Has it been too long now?  _ Quackity wondered,  _ does he still expect a response? _

The silence stretched on for far too fucking long, Quackity shifting slightly in his chair as he tried to think of a way to save the situation. He glanced into the mirror hanging on the wall, Philza looking as peaceful and impassive as he had when they started. He nervously twisted a corner of the cape in his lap, and  _ fuck Techno for leaving me alone with his dad you never leave your friends alone with your dad why would he do this to me, motherfuck- _

“Quackity?” Philza chirped, sounding amused, “You alright in there?”

“Fine!” Quackity squeaked, cursing his high pitch and nervousness before clearing his throat and trying again. “I’m just fine, how are you, uh-, big man?”

Quackity flinched.  _ Big man? Seriously? _

“I’m alright. Joined this server, killed my son, my other son got exiled by my other other son’s government. Same old, same old.” Philza kept the same tone throughout, light and airy and Quackity winced. He hadn’t thought that through,  _ fuck _ . 

“No hard feelings, right?” Quackity joked nervously.

“Should there be?” Philza said, suddenly dead serious as he made eye contact with Quackity through the mirror across from them. And, oh, yeah Quackity could see why Philza had the reputation he did and  _ how did he keep getting himself into these situations, god fucking- _

Philza snorted, patting him on the shoulder before standing and stretching.

“I’m just fucking with ya, mate, don’t worry about it. No hard feelings.” Philza smiled, but there was something a little too feral to it, too sharp to be completely friendly, and Quackity saw where Techno got it from. 

\--

“I just— I hate all of this, L’Manburg, Manburg— after all of that started things started going to shit.”

Techno paused in his knitting, carefully set it down as he turned to look towards Quackity. Quackity was staring pensively into the fire, leaning heavily on one elbow as he studied the flames. 

Philza had disappeared down the staircase moments before, despite Techno’s silent pleading with him to stay, only giving Techno a smug look over Quackity’s head, and a promise to return with hot chocolate.

After it looked like he wasn’t going to continue, Techno picked up his knitting again.

“It’s just—” Quackity started, and Techno  _ sighed _ , “everything sucks now! Everyone’s all up in arms about everything, and everything is all about ‘ _ intercountry relations’ _ and it’s dumb and I hate it and it sucks. Governments  _ suck _ , Techno.”

Techno inhaled. Exhaled. He slowly set down his knitting, lest any sudden movements scare away Quackity’s one moment of clarity. They were few and far between, you really had to capitalize on what you got when you got it. They were very close to a revelation here, and Techno had to act  _ carefully _ . 

When Techno turned to look at him Quackity was staring at him, expression open and vulnerable. 

“Be careful, Ducky, you’re starting to sound like me.” He deadpanned, finally breaking the silence between them.

It was almost funny how quickly Quackity’s face crumpled, cycling between affronted, bamboozled, then contemplative.  _ The old ABCs of realizing you’re an anarchist _ ,Techno thought,  _ happens every time _ .

Quackity blinked twice, quickly, before shaking his head.

“Y’know what— actually, nevermind. I don’t— We can worry about government another day, alright, asshole?” There was no bite to his tone this time, still looking deep in thought. He huffed before shifting in his seat uncomfortably, looking into the fire again. 

“I think… We should  _ talk _ . About our  _ feelings _ .” Quackity’s speech was stilted, looking wildly uncomfortable and like he wanted to be literally anywhere else. Techno felt the same way.

“Ok.” Techno said finally, looking down at his knitting project again. “You can start.”

Quackity huffed, looking offended, before anxiously rubbing his hands across his thighs. Why did this have to be so  _ awkward? _

“I’m a licensed therapist, you know—” Quackity started, hands waving as if gesturing authoritatively would give him more credit.

  
“You’re not.”

Quackity flipped him off.

  
“Ok, you got me— I’m not, but I think we could work with some  _ I feel _ statements.” He spoke semi confidently, desperate to put on a front, but his wings’ anxious shifting gave him away. “ _ I feel _ upset, because of what you said earlier. Or, I guess— what you didn’t say?”

“ _ I feel _ confused, because I don’t know what I didn’t say that upset you.” Techno said, stuttering slightly over the sentence. A glance at Quackity proved that he was just as confused, and Quackity huffed, frustrated. 

“Ok, I see how that could be confusing. But,  _ you _ —” He didn’t get to finish as Techno cut him off.   
  
“I thought we were doing I feel statements. You can’t just ignore your own rules, you’re the one who set them.”

Quackity flipped him off again before starting over.

“Ok- fine-  _ I feel _ hurt, that you didn’t do anything when I said I was going to resurrect Schlatt.” At the blank look he received he continued, voice noticeably shakier. “ _ I feel _ like you don’t care, because if you  _ did _ care, you’d make me stop. Or tell me not to, I guess.”

Quackity finished lamely, hands dropping back into his lap as he glared at the fire. 

“Oh.” Techno said finally, nervously tapping on the table. “I can see how that would hurt. I’m—  _ I feel _ — Do I still have to do this I feel statement thing?” 

Quackity snorted before waving his hand dismissively. “Just speak.”

“I think resurrecting Schlatt is an awful idea. Like, there’s no way that’s going to end well. But I don’t— I don’t know!” He looked frustrated now, running his hands over the knitted yarn. “I’m tired of being told what to do. Of being used. I didn’t want you to feel the same way. You’re your own person, Quackity, you can do what you want. I  _ trust _ you.”

“Oh.” Quackity said finally. 

“Oh.” Techno agreed, staring into the fire again. 

“Thanks? For trusting me, I guess,” Quackity shifted again, adjusting his wings against his back.

Techno just grunted, before looking towards Quackity again. Quackity was looking at him, too, nerves written across his face.

“Can we be friends again?” Quackity blurted out, flushing slightly.

“Sure,” Techno snorted, grabbing his knitting before standing up. He settled down again next to Quackity’s chair, head resting on the side of his thigh as he continued his soon-to-be mittens. They were varying shades of blue, and Techno planned to line them with soft fabric. 

He’d noticed how cold Quackity got, the man used to the much warmer temperatures of Manburg. He was slowly working on a set of winter clothes for him, starting with the mittens. Philza had recommended starting small, after teaching Techno the basics. 

Speak of the devil, Philza came up the staircase carrying a tray with three mugs on it. After handing them out, he settled into the chair Techno had abandoned, looking unbearably smug as he took a sip from his mug.

Techno knew that look. Techno  _ feared _ that look.

“So!” Philza said cheerily, gesturing at Techno and Quackity, “When’s the wedding?”

**Author's Note:**

> uwu!! i keep talking about quacknoblade crack wedding content and keep not posting that im so sorry yall alskdjflksdfhj someday;;;;  
> check out my tumblr @letsfluxshitup where i talk abt my writing and answer asks and sometimes draw??
> 
> also quackity didnt even break his ankle he twisted it (in reference to the title LMAO)


End file.
